A Hell All Our Own
by mopstyle
Summary: It's a sick, sad evening for a costume party. After four bitter years of loneliness and regret, snarky Edward finds his long lost in a dark bar. Will Emmett, weary traveler, want to save what they once had, or will their demons get in the way?


_**SLASH BACKSLASH ONE-SHOT CONTEST**_

**Story Name: A Hell All Our Own**

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Pen name: mopstyle**

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Pairing: Emmett/Edward**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the characters. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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To see other entries in the "SLASH BACKSLASH" contest, please visit the C2: ****http ://www. fanfiction. net/c2/74941/3/0/1/**

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**A/N: Thank you, until the end of time, to Frenchbeanz, Detroitangel, and Allysue08. This is my first slash, so I hope you likey. Please, please, please check out my BANNER at **http(colon)//i114(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/n252/mopstyle/hellbanner(dot)jpg

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Evidently not one to mince words, sex-on-a-stick number three couldn't have told me off any quicker than, "In your dreams, Twink."

_Oh, I don't fucking think so. I am not _that _nellie_. Tonight had turned out to be the biggest mistake I'd ever fucking made. Devil zombies and soldiers of God—I would have sworn that Satan in his Sunday best couldn't have coerced me into attending this treacherous affair. I forgot all about Hecate of Oz and her maxi-with-wings monkeys. One pouts, one rages, and Catie herself, Alice—well, she would birth the babes of minotaurs if it meant she got something shiny out of it. So here I was, drinking watered down liquor, not giving two fucks that she would be pissed when I ditched her.

Leaning against the cold, hard wall, I watched my last rejection walk down the hallway, not feeling one bit sorry for myself._ He's too much beef, not enough cake_. _Tear me in two, that one would_.

So much for this place. Stupid costume parties; stupid, goddamned cunt Alice. I ducked out all sneaky-like, without saying goodbye. I threw my black felt hat behind me, hoping it would sink into the muck clogging the storm drain. Sometimes, I wished my sister would just lie still, so that the house could land on her like it's supposed to. Rain obviously doesn't do a damn thing. That rubber hook nose never once looked out of place on her tiny, little, pocked, green face.

The sky roared and opened its gaping hole, spewing its contamination upon the city. Duck and cover wouldn't cut it this time. I was too far from any eave or tree. I sprinted for the nearest open establishment, only noticing it was a bar after I entered. I thanked myself, again, for wearing real life clothes under this ridiculous costume. Pied fucking Piper, please. I should have known something was amiss when she wanted me to wear tights. Thank fuck I put my foot down. I guess I suppressed my suspicion that she was only looking to humiliate. She wanted to put feathers all over me. I cut her off at one. I had no idea that what she was hiding, was the biggest fucking feather in the world.

I was chagrined, to say the least.

Pirates are okay. I mean, Blackbeard ain't got nothing on Cap'n Jack for flair, but not all men are created equal. Evidently, something about my costume wasn't clear enough. I don't have the burl to pull off Blackbeard. _This_ is _obvious_. That motherfucker was hardcore. "Come, let us make a hell of our own, and try how long we can bear it." Had more fitting words ever been uttered? I needed to get the hell out of this town, out of this state, out of this life.

"_Oh, Edward, don't you look cute?"_

"_What kind of pirate are you supposed to be?"_

Giant guffaws from groveling pigs and brain-fried warbling from the not-so-freshest of the hens; I was shrinking just recalling the shrill din of the room. I had never once worn eyeliner, but _god__damned _if _everyone_ didn't notice. Stupid. Cunt. Alice.

_More fitting words..._

I tore off that frilly, faggoty, poet's shirt and threw it out before the door shut behind me. I might indulge in a fair share of manflesh, but that doesn't mean I'm a fucking girl. The scarf belt was next, along with the fucking bootflaps and plastic gold necklaces. I opened the door back up and threw those to the gods as well. The bouncer looked at me sideways, then to the sidewalk. I guess I threw them far enough from the bar for him to not have to worry about it. I shrugged and headed for the liquor.

The only reason I went to that party was because she had promised me a few stromos to ogle over. She neglected to mention that half of our fucking graduating class would be there.

Twins kill their other halves all the time, don't they? Now there is a crime of passion.

"What'll it be?"

"Uh, gin and tonic, please."

This was any bar I'd ever been to--dark, nondescript, depressing. It didn't matter who was where, what was on, or what was up, unless it was my drink.

"You got a phone book?" I asked the bartender when he sidled up with my gin.

"Need a cab?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

I stirred my drink with the straw, bent it over the side, and brought the glass to my mouth. I drank from the rim as fast as I could without looking like a damned fool. I set it down, empty, and pushed it back to him.

"Now."

He turned and that was that. I was about to stand, go check out the jukebox, but a large, warm hand slapped the middle of my back and sat me right the fuck back down.

"Edward! Dude, what the fuck? How are you?"

Jesus fuck. One more _goddamned_...

"Cancel that cab, Mikey. He's got a ride home." _Mikey_ nodded and I lifted my face to see who was making such an offer.

"Emmett?"

"Who else, m' man?" Gin joints, old lovers, Halloween--yeah, it all made perfect fucking sense. My heart was in my throat and it scraped my esophagus as I tried to make room for words.

"Well, not bloody you, that's for sure." I nearly choked.

"You British now, fucker? How have you been?" He sat down, ordered two more, and it was almost like he had never left.

"I'm... fine. How are you? What the hell are you doing here?" His face hadn't changed one fucking bit. His arms were still massive, and other than a few sextra pounds of pure fucking brawn, he was still the Emmett I grew up next door to--all dimples and short messy hair.

He had the most perfect fucking face I'd ever seen. His eyes were on the small side and they were hooded by his brow. It wasn't all Hunchback of Notre Dame or anything, just solid and smooth and unassuming. It made his face appear darker than it was, more mysterious, especially dotted with his light hazel eyes. It startled me that I still got this sort of sickeningly pleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach when I looked directly into them.

The last time I saw him, some four years ago, he was heartbroken and defeated. His girl had left him and the Emmett that I knew just disappeared. He abandoned all his plans, all his hard work—the life he'd outlined for himself, and alienated everyone he loved. He pushed me away and turned into a shell of who he once was. He left town shortly thereafter, without any word to his whereabouts.

"Back for more, I guess? I would say I missed the place, but that would be a lie. I came back because I had nowhere else to go, really. No one else to see. Mom's happy, but that's about it." He chewed the end of his cigarette nervously, licking it and wrapping his lips around it like it was the cock that got away. I had to keep my own tongue locked behind my teeth, lest I find the same thing.

"Huh," I said. "Where did you go? What have you been doing?" You'd think he joined the fucking circus, the way he disappeared and then, poof, was back again. It looked as if whatever sideshow he'd been riding with had its very own tattoo studio. He was practically fucking covered-- head to toe, most likely. It looked like monsters on his left arm and some old school Sailor Jerry shit on his right. Strange, two-dimensional, spiked weaponry curved from his collarbone up both sides of his neck and seemed to pierce into the tip of his chin. That's a little too close to the face for my liking, but then, I never really_ liked_ getting tattooed. It didn't stop me, of course, even though I swore it felt like being sawed in half every time.

"Oh, you know, here and there. Just trying to find my way. Funny how it's all led me right the fuck back here," he said. "I'm surprised _you_ stayed. I would have thought you'd been gone long ago." He was smiling and leaning on the counter with his thick fucking arms bent at the elbows. Something inside me kind of jumped when I thought about him wrapping those guns around me.

"I've tried, believe me. Alice makes things very difficult." The fucking hag can't keep to herself for one fucking minute. Every time I made plans to move out, or away, she slopped around for some piss poor reason why I couldn't leave her. Guilt is a hideous, maimed, many-headed demon, and her name is Sister.

I took a hearty gulp of my gin and elbowed Emmett. I wanted contact. Any form would do. "She thinks she needs me around. Like she can't fucking function without me. I'll manage one day. In the middle of the night, or some shit."

"Sounds like a plan, man. You just say the word and we'll have you out before the rooster can even crack his lids. Where are you staying now, anyway?" he asked.

"Still down off Ridge. Alice refuses to sell the place. What about you?" His mom still lived in town. I figured he was staying with her.

"With Mom. I just got in yesterday. I would have stopped by, if I thought you were still there." He was pensive, sheepish and I was confused.

"Well, lucky us, then, huh? Running into each other here?" I could feel the anxiety rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"You okay, Emmett?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He wasn't fucking fine. Something was up, but I knew I just needed a little time to get it out.

"Come on. Let's hit the store and go back to my place. Alice will be out with the other harpies until dawn, so the threat is minor."

We loudly made our way through Chip's Liquor 'n More and then to my dark, quiet house. I flipped a few lights on, but saw no need to flood ourselves.

"Shit, some things never change. It feels like I never left," Emmett reflected as he handed me a beer and stood at the counter.

"Why did you leave?" I asked, sick of beating around it. He could have stayed and shit would have worked out, eventually. He chose to leave it all, leave what he knew, who he loved--who I loved--and never bothered to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I couldn't handle it," he groaned. When he said it, he was looking me directly in the eye and it made the fucking words burst with feeling. I could knock his fucking lights out for leaving and he knew it. I wanted to do it, just so I could feel his skin one more time.

He took a step toward me, but then halted. "You should have, at least, told _me_," I said, clutching my chest and twisting my fingers around my shirt. Some deep, black, chasm in my soul opened up and the phantoms of what we once were, how close he and I had come to perfection, catapulted out--screaming at the injustice we had been served.

He either saw them fly out of me, or his shoes must have been mighty fucking interesting because he traded his gaze with me for them. "I know. Every time I thought about coming over, telling you, seeing your face, I fucking died and I just couldn't do it." He seemed to choke, or sob. My heart, among other things, swelled when I realized that he'd regretted his leaving just as much as I had. "I was a coward, Edward. I know that, too, so you can keep that shit to yourself." He finally looked back up at me, swallowing whatever pain had been regurgitating inside him. "I'm not a coward anymore."

_Fuck_. The breath I sucked in right then was painful and if it were his cock, it would have choked me for damn sure. It wasn't very bright in the kitchen, but I could see his jaw set, and his tongue as it glided over his plump bottom lip.

"It was the yellow way out, what you did, Emmett, and it broke me more than I realized. I know we didn't have much, but you shouldn't have run from it." Distance wasn't an option in this kitchen anymore. I advanced toward him, settling as close as I could without tackling him. His eyes studied my face and chest while I tried to see more of that pointed tattoo.

"I'm here to make it up to you," he said, showing that tongue off one more time. I took that as an invitation and softly palmed his face. He leaned into me and I smelled his cologne, his soap, whatever, and my mouth watered.

"I missed you, you fuck," I said, leaning my forehead against his and inhaling his breath. His lips brushed against mine as he repeated the same words back to me--hot and fucking delicious. I played the coy courted, only daring to nudge back every third attempt, until I snapped and sucked his tongue into my mouth. His breath came out in a strong blow and he fucking growled, unashamed that he was now trying to swallow me whole--teeth, tongue, and lips first.

We scrambled to a softer location, stopping every five feet to dip in for another taste, or grab another handful. "Are we going to your room?" he inquired, panting and tearing at my shirt.

"If you stop trying to kill me, we might actually make it, Emmett." I pulled the shirt over my head and he had my nipple in his mouth as soon as he could.

"Fuck, Em," I said, collapsing under him halfway up the stairs. I made room and opened my legs for him to fit, pushing my cock onto his chest. He licked and sucked and bit hastily, not caring if he was leaving marks. As he got lower, I got harder and when his mouth roamed the outside of my jeans, right over and around me, I nearly came right there in the stairwell. He managed to open my Levi's with his mouth and was yanking them down when the house filled with headlights pulling into the driveway.

"Motherfucker!" I yelled, grabbing my clothes and Emmett. "It's probably Alice. Come on, hurry."

We ran to my bedroom and locked the door, alternately laughing and grimacing at our situation. I reluctantly put my clothes back on and crept out into the hallway like a masked stalker trying to see who was invading my little fucking piece of heaven.

Nothing seemed alive. There were neither footsteps, nor car in the drive anymore. "Alice!" I called to no answer. It was probably someone just turning around. Smiling at my luck, I sauntered back into that bedroom, disrobing as I went. Emmett stood at the foot of the bed, his shoes and socks discarded carelessly in the middle of the room. I unbuttoned my fly while he watched, licking his goddamned lips again. He groped himself through his low rise cords, lifting his shirt a few felicitous inches like a fucking tease.

"False alarm?" he asked heavily. I could see his cock, hard and fucking begging for me, straining against the fabric of his trousers and I wanted nothing more than to trap my hands in there with it. I bridged our distance and snuck my hands into that pleasure zone, spreading my fingers over his hard, warm abdomen.

"It would seem so," I said and his mouth was once again hungry for mine. I relieved him of his clothing, throwing his shirt behind me as I slid down his body onto my knees, bringing his pants and boxers with me.

"Edward." He gasped when I wrapped my hand around his girth and pumped him, pointing that delicious cock at my face. I ran my tongue along the underside, flicking in a figure eight pattern until I reached the head and gently opened my lips to take the tip inside. I swirled my tongue, invading every crease and caressing every curve.

He moaned his approval as I slowly worked my hands up the backs of his thighs and pulled him into me. I squeezed his ass and as my lips touched base, his hands fisted in my hair--holding me in place. I swallowed around him with difficulty and pushed off, tilting my head and twisting my tongue over his taut skin. I savored his salt, licked and sucked and fucked him with my mouth. He twitched and tensed, his fingertips digging into my scalp. The harder I sucked the more he tried to pry me off of him.

"Edward--too fast. I'm gonna come if you don't stop." So I took my mouth off him, but not my hand. I massaged him slowly, looking up and smirking.

"We have all night, Emmett. You're a strapping young lad." I winked at him. "Let me make you come. It's been so long." I was not above begging. I'd groveled for less impressive dick before. He needed no more prodding from me, practically shoving himself back into my mouth.

I groaned in pleasure at his insistence, his hands guiding my head as if I didn't know exactly what he fucking liked, loved. I remembered what every inch of his searing, rigid body needed to feel good, whole--complete. Fast and fucking furious, I fellated until I felt and tasted his sweet release fill my mouth. He bent at the waist, still slowly thrusting. I wasn't anywhere near done with him, yet.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. He held me prisoner with one of his own and, not hesitating, began to stroke my cock with his free hand.

"Fuck. You have no idea how good that felt," he whispered into my chest. He was watching himself jerk me and I could barely keep my composure long enough to push him to the bed.

We stumbled but made it. As he stretched out on his side, I trapped him under me, straddling his thighs and urged him to turn face down. I kissed his back from tip to tail. Massaging his smooth skin, I pushed his thighs open and knelt between them.

"Keeping up appearances, eh? I don't think I've ever seen you so shorn, Emmett." Running my eyes along every line of his body, I bent low to lick his inner thigh, to nose the curve of his ass and lightly bite the smooth skin.

"What can I say? I can handle it in the front, but the back door should be swept clean."

I laughed and concurred as I licked my first finger and gently massaged his soft little cherry, practically foaming at the mouth with impatience for him to be laid out and buttered up for me. With my scant coating of saliva, it was impossible to penetrate him. I kissed his tailbone, lingering a bit longer than necessary. "I'll be right back," I said.

Out of my nightstand drawer I retrieved provisions and quickly warmed some lube on my fingers. When I repositioned myself and brought my hand back to his ass, he gasped and pushed up to meet me.

"Fuck, Em. You keep that shit up and I might not make it inside." My cock was fucking pulsing, ready to burst and it hurt like my mothercunting blue balls when I was fifteen. He made a strangled noise as I circled my fingers, adding pressure with each stroke.

I thought I'd pass out from the desire before I could fuck him properly, so I pushed a little farther, sliding one finger completely inside. He was tighter than a fucking virgin and I had to know. "How long has it been?" I asked, sucking and biting his cheeks as I worked a second finger past his muscle.

He remained relaxed, though his clenching gave away his arousal. I would bet money that he was hard for me again. "A year," he sputtered out between heavy breaths and quiet moans.

"Shit, I'm going too fast." I slowed my digitos and added more lube.

"No, no. It's fine, I swear. God. Don't stop." I didn't, but I didn't speed up, either.

"You're sure?" I asked, hoping like the devil that he'd say yes, but worrying that it would be too much for him.

"You won't hurt me, Edward." The words were little more than thin breaths, but they felt like a fucking hurricane when he reached back and wrapped his hand around my wrist, pushing my fingers as far into him as they would go.

"Please?" he begged. I pressed my face to his back and kissed whatever skin I could get in my mouth.

"Grab one of those pillows and put it under you," I instructed as I reached for the condom and pulled my hand away from him.

With the clean sleeve securely in place, I tapped him on the ass and sidled up between his thighs. He turned his head to me as I rested my chest on his back. My lips found his and he sucked the breath right out of me. His hand wrapped around my neck as he tried to pull me closer.

"Just say the word and I'll stop, okay?"

He smirked at me and questioned, "What word is that, E?"

"You know damn well what word," I said, returning my fingers to his soft rim. I knelt back up and covered us in lube. I should have put a fucking tarp down for as much as I poured into and on him. Slowly, I rubbed the head of my cock against him, feeling him relax under me. I began to ease my way, but wasn't gaining entrance. The position was too flat for much fucking. I bent his leg up to the side of his body, spreading him open for me.

I focused my eyes downward and watched as the head of my cock slowly disappeared inside him. He pushed against me, trying to relax himself completely, and I slipped in smoothly with a light smack where our skin met.

"Mother of–Fuck." I ground the words in my mouth. My arms started to shake and I cried out. He was so gloriously tight and warm, reduced to incoherent noises by my sliding in and out of him. Trying to hold off as long as I could, I slowed and nearly stopped, but the sensation of his body squeezing me inch by inch as I withdrew only made me ravenous to enter again.

"Up," I heard him say from under me. Balls deep, he lifted us to our knees and pushed back against me as I pounded him harder. His hips were strong and bulky under my hands, but I held on for dear, sweet, fucking life to six or seven more deafening slaps before I came--exploding in a dizzy haze of half thrusts and blind grabbing. I nearly bit through my bottom lip as his body collided with mine, strangling out the last of my orgasm.

I pulled out, quickly wrapping a tissue around my cock and disposing of the rubber. I sighed and dropped onto the bed next to him. He pulled me close, smashing our bodies together. Quiet for a few minutes, he stroked my back and kissed me randomly.

I felt him take a deep breath and when he opened his mouth, I knew before a single fucking word came out what he was going to say. "Don't fucking apologize, Emmett." His lips snapped shut and became a small smile. His champagne eyes shined in the dim light.

"Edward, there are a few things I need to say." My eyes roamed his face, my fingers his ink darkened skin. "I'm in it to win, now. If the time comes, again, to run, we're running together."

I could only smile. I wanted to jump up and down and on him, but I was paralyzed. Those words struck me down like a fucking lightning bolt, because they were the words I'd always wanted to fucking hear from him. I captured his lips softly and flicked my tongue against his.

"Anywhere you'd like to go, I'll follow," I said, attacking him with my mouth and body. His cock was rock hard again and I shifted to rub my stiff length against him. We made out like horny teenagers until I needed something a little more X-rated.

"How about a shower?" he suggested, pulling us up off the bed. I began to follow him to the bathroom when he turned around, cock waving in the air as proudly as an American fucking Flag. "Don't forget your accouterments. It's gonna be a cold walk back out here when I want to fuck you and don't have the propers, isn't it?"

We washed hastily. It was, after all, just a ruse to get each other soaking wet and slippery. There had been many an occasion that I envisioned Emmett in this shower, but none were quite as fucking inspiring as actually seeing and feeling him there. His hands molested every inch of my skin and as for mine? They were white knuckled on the towel bar as sucked my cock like a man dying. Before I was done coming, he spun me around and bent me over. He didn't stand up. Emmett tongues should come fucking standard on shower heads 'round the world.

Not so un-fucking-believably, his hot, strong mouth on my ass made me hard again and as his face rode the highway, he jerked me off onto the wall. Cheekbone and brow smashed to the tile, I screamed his name and felt his body shake with silent, smug fucking laughter. The man was going to be the death of me. I heard him pumping the bottle of lube and then his slick fingers curved into me, stretching in preparation of his monster cock. My dick tried to respond. Although it certainly appreciated the attention we were getting, it was damn near drained dry. I wanted him to fuck me, whether I got off again, or not.

I felt his hands leave me for a split second and his horse was wrapped. The torn, plastic package flew over my shoulder as he stood and pressed his arm tightly across my chest. "You're mine now, Edward. I'm not going to let you go, this time," he whispered.

I braced against the wall as he slid the tip of his cock into me. He stretched me so wide it almost hurt, but the sheer pleasure of having him back, having him inside me again, obliterated any pain. There were no words this time, only our breaths and the water rushing around us.

He held my hip. His strong arm curled and crushing around me kept my body still as he moved up and down. Knees bent, his thighs drifted against mine and it wasn't long before my hand found my cock, hard and ready for one more round. Emmett roared with his release and I felt my balls tighten and the shock pulse through me one more time.

Beaten, spent, not to mention fucked inside out, we dried off and attempted to clothe ourselves.

"Fuck it," I said, throwing my boxers back in the drawer. Emmett was sitting on my bed, looking kind of fucking green at the gills. I gave him a pointy little look and walked over to him.

"What's eating, this time, Em?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair. I knew luck had nothing to fucking do with this, but I couldn't help but feel like I'd rolled a seven on the first toss.

"Do you want me to stay?" He sounded dejected already, like he expected me to fucking throw him out.

"Of course I want you to stay. I don't ever want you to leave."

I got the guns all night, lucky me. He pulled me into him and down onto the bed. I shut off the bedside light and found myself thanking the Wicked Witch of the West for whatever spell she must have cast tonight.

"Oh, one thing Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"When did you start wearing eyeliner?"

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Ooh, let me know what you think! *wink


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